Weathered Words

So, I guess we’re having a green Christmas.

My forlorn kids are suited up with snowmobile suits and leather gloves, standing at the back window, looking out at our green, green fields. Rudolf obviously took the year off.

There are many things you can’t predict, the weather being the most cliché.

For a writer, my weather is words. I’m constantly trying to forecast my word count—which I might add, feels impossible.

 

I know for my first crack at a fantasy novel, my word count is way off. My debut fantasy word count should be under 100,000 but is currently sitting at 125,000. At least I recognize the source of problem; it’s because this is my first draft. The first draft is like a blizzard, coming in hard and strong with heavy snow fall, knock-you-over winds, impaired visibility, and chaos. Does anyone, even a seasoned plotter, actually know where their story is going amid the storm? I would argue, no. It’s like driving home during that snowstorm… in the dark, gaging your steering by the occasional glimpse of a hydro pole and praying the tire tracks you’re following aren’t leading you right into the ditch to join the other sad, abandoned vehicles.

 

After the storm settles, we push open our doors and trudge out to search for our submerged side walks.

It’s a whole new world.

This is how it feels to read that first draft. Bloated and heavy with repetitions, needless adverbs, weak descriptions and dead end, meandering plot twists. As we put on our fluffy, editor hats and grab our shovels, we commit to wage war against our inflated word counts.

It’s time to cut every needless word, ruthlessly shoveling and chipping the ice away to reveal the true plot path.

 

How on earth will I ever dig myself out from under 25,000 words, down to the essential story?

I have faith because I’ve done it before. The first draft of my first novel was like the ocean tide. It swelled, running up the shore to touch upon additional points of view, characters who never made it to the final draft and scenes that failed to add substance to the overall story. In the end, these were lessons I needed to learn; practice to become a better writer. At times, after a writing retreat or an inspirational writing burst, words swelled like a tsunami, crashing records, smashing my intended word ceiling and then I started the process all over again.

Word counts are very much like the weather. To survive, one needs to have a great weather app, to look ahead and plan accordingly. For a writer, you need to check the weather often and keep your eye on that word count. Plan your destination, be it a 1000-word flash fiction (by the way, I hear these are amazing for learning how to cut words) or a 100,000 word, completely respectable, first crack at a fantasy.

So, as we wait for the snow to come, I’m going to use these ‘snowmobile-free’ days to work on cutting my word count.

 

Wait, is that a snowflake?

Wish me luck!